


MTG Drabbles

by Monstradamus



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, Randomness, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstradamus/pseuds/Monstradamus
Summary: A collection of short one-shots taking place on various planes, with various characters, based on various prompts. Characters will be added as new drabbles go up.





	1. Roommates

**Author's Note:**

> _Hey again, and welcome to a new fic by me! This one’s going to be a little different. I’ve never tried drabbles before, but was encouraged to do so by a few friends. Anyway, after trying a few, it got me thinking about making a drabble collection for MtG. So, here we are. Plus, it's a nice something to read while you wait for updates to Adventures in Planeswalking/Babysitting. Each chapter will tell you which plane we’re on, and who’s involved. All chapters will be less than 500 words, and capture a little snapshot of life in the worlds of Magic. As always, I own nothing of Magic the Gathering. All the fantastic worldbuilding and characters belong to Wizards of the Coast. Enjoy!_

**Title:** Roommates

**Plane:** Ravnica (Post-Eldritch Moon)

**Prompt:** "How did you get that to stick to the ceiling?"

**Genre:** Humor

**Characters (In Order of Appearance):** Jace Beleren, Nissa Revane, Chandra Nalaar, and Liliana Vess

**Word Count:** 480

"Earth to Nissa!" Jace shouted.

It was only when he saw a slight twitch behind her eyelids that he knew she was back from sending her consciousness to…the land, he figured. A single green eye opened in annoyance. "Yes?"

"How did you get that to stick to the ceiling?"

She looked up. "It is not stuck. It is growing there."

"Whatever. But how did it get there?"

Nissa shrugged. "It is a plant. What more needs explaining?"

Jace sighed, trying not to lose his patience with her. He knew there was still so much she didn't understand about living in a city. "I need details, Nissa, and I can find out one way or the other."

One of her eyebrows raised as if challenging him to read her mind without permission. "I dunno, I kinda like it," a voice said behind them.

Chandra was coming back from the kitchen, still chewing on something as she spoke to them, a fruit of some sort, from what Nissa could smell. "You practically live in a cave," Chandra continued. "You needed something to brighten up the place."

Nissa smiled, happy to have someone try to understand. "Just tell me," Jace persisted.

Her fingers fidgeted nervously. "I am still getting used to plant life on Ravnica. I did not realize that the tharedil's strong root system would make it not suitable for your roof garden."

He didn't mind that the elf had chosen his roof garden to sleep. It was probably the only place that felt similar to her wild, overgrown home to make her feel comfortable. He just didn't like all the "changes" that had appeared there. "How do you intend to fix it?"

Her head tilted in confusion. "It is healthy and growing. It does not need fixing."

Jace was on the verge of a lecture when someone else sauntered in to interrupt. "Just what is going on here? What are you whining about?" Liliana asked.

He pointed to the purple-white roots growing through the ceiling. "It's cracked through the roof, and it's disrupting the structure. See here it's…"

Liliana only waved her hand. The roots withered, blackened, and dropped from the ceiling, falling onto Nissa's lap, as she looked at it in horror, trying to find words. "There, will you shut up now?" She then sighed. "Sometimes Jace…"

"You didn't have to do that to her," Chandra objected.

Liliana threw a hand casually on her hip. "In case you've forgotten, she's a guest here, just like you and Beefslab."

"It still wasn't nice," Chandra grumbled.

Nissa slowly stood up, straighter than she normally did and looked Jace and Liliana in the eye. "It is of no consequence."

She walked off. "Well, now you've gone and done it," Chandra said. "I wouldn't want to piss of the girl who could make the land come alive and literally put you six feet under."


	2. And Then She Kissed Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you tell the one you love they're more than a friend?

**Title:** And Then She Kissed Me

 **Plane:** Ravnica (Pre-Dragon’s Maze)

 **Prompt:** “When he tried to express himself with words, he could never get it right. But with his hands, he could shape things, mold things, and make things. He had discovered that gift as a young boy when he…”

 **Genre:** Romance

 **Characters (In Order of Appearance):** OCs

 **Word Count:** 500

When he tried to express himself with words, he could never get it right. But with his hands, he could shape things, mold things, and make things. He had discovered that gift as a young boy when he created that grand explosion in the square. He and his friends had just been overeager during the celebration and had taken to making their own fireworks. Innocent enough, he thought, until some Azorius guards arrested him. But, it had gotten the attention of one of the finest Izzet guildmages. Since then, he could say a lot more to his friends, and more importantly, rivals with his work than he ever could with his words.

Now, however, was a much different situation, a more important one. He had been struggling for weeks to decide how to say it. A few days ago, he had stolen a book from the Selesnyans, easy after he had paid some Rakdos thug to take care of it. He had studied the diagrams and drawings intently. This was far more complex than anything he had ever built. He was beginning to appreciate more what they did, what they could do. He now understood what those clerics meant about beauty in nature. The intricate ways a plant could support itself, the structure alone, the complexity of the interior; it was all beautiful. Maybe not in the same way the Selesnyans saw it, but it was enough for him.

Task completed, he scrambled to put away his tools and dash out the door. Everyone was so predictable in Ravnica. He knew all their habits, and routes, but it was one in particular that was of utmost importance. He found her where she always was this time of day, sitting on a bench, hidden away from the prying eyes of anyone who might be watching, flipping through the pages of a book. She saw him, smiled, and only shook her head. “I just can’t seem to get rid of you,” she said.

Like always, he fumbled with his words, but it was even worse this time. “Are you alright?” she asked worriedly.

“I, uh, have something to show you,” blurted out, knowing nothing else to say.

He held out a small, metal box. It clicked and whirred from the inside, too quiet for him, but enough that her sensitive ears would’ve picked it up, he thought. The box opened, and a metal stem sprung from the center, slowly blooming into a magnificent flower of all color of metals. He waited for a response. He could see the words on her lips, ready to yell at him, an Izzet, for making a mockery of her work with this artificial abomination. But her eyes belied something else. It was as if she could tell how hard he had worked to understand her and her guild.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears for what seemed like hours. “So?” he asked pleadingly.

Inyeni smiled, pulling him forward for a kiss. “I love you too, Derkis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were long overdue for an update of some sort. And with all this unpleasantness going on with the site and the spam issue, we could use a little something nice. In case you didn't figure it out, these were two of the handful of OCs introduced in Scry 4. I love these two, and lucky me, they haven't left my imagination.
> 
> Capitao, I believe your drabble idea will be next. I have a few ideas to try out for it, but we'll see if I can still keep it under that 500 mark. If not, I may end up making it an AO3-exclusive one-shot.


	3. An Innistrad Fable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old tale from Innistrad. A chapter inspired by CapitaoGalo.

**Title:** An Innistrad Fable

 **Plane:** Innistrad (pre-Eldritch Moon)

 **Prompt:** A tale in which black magic is portrayed as “good” and white magic as “bad.”

 **Genre:** Fantasy/Folktale

 **Characters (In Order of Appearance):** OCs and Avacyn

 **Word Count:** 439

There were once two brothers: one a pious archmage devoted to Avacyn; the other a twisted necromancer who was his own master. The two could never see eye to eye. The archmange tried in vain to make his brother see the light and turn away from his love of death. The other wished only to be left in peace. But alas, the archmange resigned that only Avacyn herself could save him.

Such it was that during one of their many spirited debates about the afterlife, the angel herself stood before them. “Please, great Avacyn,” the archmage pleaded, shielding his eyes from her dazzling brilliance, “show my brother that the wicked such as he are doomed to an eternity of damnation. Save him.”

She looked from the brother who bowed to her in supplication to the one who only stared at her expressionless. Avacyn spoke evenly. “Those who are merciful are surely among the blessed. Show me this night your capacity for mercy, and with my host of angels, you shall reside.”

The two brothers set out to find their test of character. Deep in the foggy forests, a werewolf sprung upon them. For the archmage, this was his chance. Surely this was a sign, the test Avacyn had sent for them. He would save the suffering creature from their own baser instincts. He held up his staff, a symbol of the angel, and cast a spell of blinding white light upon the beast. “By the power of Avacyn,” he commanded, “drive out the devil within.”

Struck blind and burned, the werewolf was no longer a threat, but was gravely wounded. It howled and whined in its torment, unable to fight off the spell which had injured it. The necromancer took pity on the beast’s pain and put it out of its misery with only the briefest spells of death magic.

At once, Avacyn appeared before the two brothers. “What mercy have you shown?” asked she.

The archmage bowed before her. “I made an attempt to save one of your flock and rid him of the curse of lycanthropy. His soul would not relent the beast.”

The necromancer only shook his head, already resigned to his fate. “I killed the beast,” said he. “He deserved peace after having suffered so long in life.”

The angel nodded. “The most merciful act of all,” said she, “is to make the ultimate sacrifice out of empathy. You, necromancer, know that sacrifice. Among my guardians, you shall fly.”

She took the necromancer’s hand and led him away, leaving his brother at a loss for words and all alone.

MERCY IS NOT MERCY WITHOUT SACRIFICE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One night it just sort of came to me with this prompt: do it in the style of Aesop's Fables. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. Thank you, Capitao, for your wonderful suggestion for a prompt, and I hope you enjoy it. Again, if you have a prompt you would like to see me work with, please suggest one.


	4. Odds Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitul reflects on the data of his and Rashmi's work on the transporter. The vedalken sees things by the numbers, but there truly is something beautiful in mathematics.

****

**Title:** Odds Are

****

**Plane:** Kaladesh (Slightly Pre-Revolt)

****

**Prompt:** “They say the third time’s a charm. What about the fourth, or the fifth? Do the odds suddenly start going down? Odds are important in my line of work because…”

****

**Genre:** Friendship

****

**Characters (In Order of Appearance):** Mitul and Rashmi

****

**Word Count:** 471

They say the third time’s a charm. What about the fourth, or the fifth? Do the odds suddenly start going down? Odds are important in my line of work because I’m the one responsible for calculating the chances of failure. Rashmi is great with ideas, but hard numbers is my area. I appreciate her faith in the Great Conduit, but sometimes I think that clouds her judgment when it comes to seeing room for improvement. However, it gives her hope, which I think we do need.

“Test subject 651,” I recite as she prepares for our latest trial.

Eighty percent chance of failure, I mentally note. After six-hundred and fifty other trials, Rashmi is tired of hearing my predicted chances of success. I suppose I don’t understand why she sees that as such glum news. We are actually improving with each trial. It’s more like a 79.16% chance of failure really: a 0.02% difference from the last time. Imperceptible to some, but each new test matters. I wish she could see the perfection of imperfection.

* * *

“Test subject 739,” I read off, “sixty-five percent chance of failure.”

“Mitul, please,” she says, “none of that today.”

I wish I could understand her connection to the Great Conduit. She is so sure that it will work. “But it is better than last week,” I argue. “Why, test subject number…”

“Just stick to measuring what goes wrong,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Odds only dash dreams. I want to know what needs to be fixed.”

We each have our own ways of keeping our hopes up. She may not think so, but these numbers give me hope.

* * *

“Test subject 848,” I say.

It is becoming much harder to still believe in my numbers. My calculations say a seventeen percent chance of failure, but these failed trials are all starting to look alike. I wish, no I pray, Rashmi’s Great Conduit is right and we have not been wasting all this time and money on this project. Every time, it’s a new problem. This time, it’s the environment around the test subject. We need more stability. I am glad her ideas make her feel better. We have to get it right sometime, right?

* * *

“Test subject 887.”

I’m not even sure what my notes say anymore. Neither of us has slept in days, and the trials for the inventors fair are only a couple hours away. I’m not even sure those numbers would matter anymore. As the percentages of failure have dropped, they’ve now plateaued, and measured improvement is hard to see. Still, I cannot let Rashmi see my doubt. Still, the odds might as well be at a ninety percent failure. The test subject continues to implode, and I haven’t found a way to make improvements. I fear I’ve failed my best friend.


	5. Jace is More of a Cat Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chandra brought home a new friend. How does Jace respond?

**Title:** Jace is a More of a Cat Person

 **Plane:** Ravnica (Post Eldritch Moon)

 **Prompt:** How will your character, who never has experience with pets of any kind, adapt to this situation? (For The Room's Promptapalooza, challenge 1)

 **Genre:** Humor

 **Characters (In Order of Appearance):** Jace Beleren and Chandra Nalaar

 **Word Count:** 489

Jace looked down at the wide yellow eyes looking back at him. "Chandra, I told you we weren't keeping the cat."

"You only said you wouldn't take care of it. That's not the same thing," he heard the pyromancer call from the hallway. "If it's such a problem, why don't you go get your girlfriend, Liliana to handle it."

"She's not my…never mind. Still, my sanctum, my rules."

"I'll get him off your hands later. Kinda in the middle of a training thing with Gids."

Jace massaged the bridge of his nose with a frustrated sigh as the orange furball began to purr and curl up in his lap, right on top of his book. "I was reading that, you know," he said to the cat, not sure why he was even bothering.

He seemed to ignore him and proceeded to get even more comfortable on top of the worn pages of the tome. Jace rolled his eyes, picked up the cat, and set him down on the floor. He waved his hand. "Okay, go. Shoo. Go away now."

The cat mewled, rubbed up against one of his legs, and then proceeded to climb back up on his lap. This time, Jace moved the book before he could lay over the words he had tried to read at least three times now before all these interruptions.

"Fine," he muttered. "Don't know why you don't go and bother Chandra. She's the one who's warm like a furnace." After all, that was how this furry creature ended up here anyway. Chandra had a habit of collecting stray cats around Ravnica due to her warm personality…and warm temperature. That's pyromancers for you, he thought.

Still, it wasn't too much of a nuisance. He could just hear Lavinia telling him he was making a big deal over nothing. Plus, he was too occupied with his reading to want to continue fending off the cat to no avail. Once the cat was settled, he stayed pretty still in his lap, his eyes fixated on the words on the pages. It was almost as if the cat was reading along with him. Jace smirked. "Well, I guess you can't be all that bad. At least you have good taste. Azorian law books are a good read."

For several minutes, Jace read in the comfort of his library, the cat seemingly becoming just part of the room, stationed quietly with him. Without really thinking about it, he began to scratch his head just before he would turn the page. Whenever he stopped, the cat would nudge Jace's hand to continue the comforting movement. He willingly obliged. It had actually been several hours of peace and quiet before Jace realized it was already past sunset. He looked down again at the orange fur and gentle eyes.

"I guess we could stand to have a cat around here," he said, giving his new friend a good belly rub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm still working on the other story, but due to a little troll bumping up my hit count so suddenly, you all get bonus chapters! Yay!

**Author's Note:**

> So, since this is AO3, and not FFnet, I have the ability to allow you guys to submit ideas if you have them, however, that does come with a few rules.
> 
> 1\. Do **not** send me a request that looks like: "Please do a story with X/Y pairing" or "Please do a story with X character." Sorry, those are too short to really come up with something creative.
> 
> 2\. Do **not** send me a request that looks like: "Please do a story with X character where they do X, Y, and Z, but it ends with A." Those are just a little too specific. At that point, why aren't you writing the story?
> 
> 3\. **Do** send me requests that contain a sentence or even a sentence and a half (as we'll see in some later drabbles) that I have to include in my story. Those are creative, and get the juices flowing. Just make sure the sentence is generic enough that I could apply it to any plane in the multiverse.


End file.
